Part 8 (1/2)
”Yes,” says Holmes, to hi out in the rain for long enough”
Hol hard and utterly soaked We both are
”Long enough for what?” I ask
He smiles superciliously, and it takes soht hook ”Time for tea, Watson?”
”Tea?” I ask, my incredulity yet to wane in the face of such bizarre behaviour ”Tea!” I repeat, turning to anger ”Yes, I'd like a bloody cup of tea An hour ago ht have been nice”
Holain ”Tea it is then” He proceeds to slap me on the arm as he sets off at a brisk pace in the direction of our by-now-distant lodgings ”Come now, Doctor, you'll catch a death out here in this rain”
He is fortunate I am tired and a few paces behind, or I may well have thrown that punch after all
But as alked back to Baker Street like two drowned rats, I wonder what has set him off; what has arrested Sherlock Holmes' senses to make him wander off and take such a circuitous route back to our abode? If I didn't know any better I would say he is trying to discern if so us I look back on several occasions but see nothing out of the ordinary In a city like London, with its black, beating heart, there is no shortage of ne'er-do-wells, ruffians and assorted ver folk harm I see plenty of these but none whoard as a threat
It is with grateful eyes, then, that I finally behold 221b Baker Street and iine the elcome ill receive within
Still, the chill that soue persists even after the fire is lit and a hot towel is curled aroundto ill encounter later
”What are you looking at, Hollass of whisky ined arments for Mrs Hudson's expert attention The towel aroundlad to be out of the stor the streets outside
Hol see at some unknown and unseen terror only he can perceive
He doesn't answer
”Holmes, you are soaked and will catch a death of cold if you do not change At once, old boy, doctor's orders I insist”
”Watson,” he replies, ”you are as badgering and ineffectual as our old nanny Mrs Hudson has tried, and failed, to dislodge me I shall not be moved”
”At least take a towel, Hol to a dose of influenza because of your recalcitrant attitude”
”On the contrary, Watson,” he correctsin his dedication, ”it is essential”
I decide to drop the h to accept that Sherlock Holmes would always be the victor Instead, I cast my mind back to the alley and that scene of utter horror and bodily devastation
”Whatlike that?” I wonder out loud ”How,” I say, turning away quickly froain, ”could a th to remove another man's head, and why?'
”I feel it is connected,” says Holue's expression suggests it is not ”Connected?' I continue, glad that we are at least engaging in conversation ”To what, old boy?”
”To whatever else that was layering Brick Lane Certainly not the victih, dear Doctor”
”The blood and viscera? Outside of a slaughterhouse, I have never seen such a rees ”Are you so sure though, Watson?”
”Sure? Of what?”
He turns quickly, bolting from thelike he's been bitten by an adder
”Holmes?” I ask ”What the devil-”
”Co your gun, if you please”
”What?”
I a on my socks and shoes, still damp from the rain, as I hear him call from the corridor
”Are you so sure it is athat now faun froive chase
I race into the street outside our lodgings, very nearly colliding with a clutch of lingering street urchins Bullying theh I know I a by the corner of Baker Street looking out into the void
Night is encroaching, brought on faster by the rain, and aunt silhouette
He seizes an urchin as they scurry past, teasing the wretch's ear and having a quiet word By the time I catch up to the a pocket watch I recognise
”Yours, I believe, Watson,” he says, without looking at efully after the little hellion that's just disappeared into the darkness, and aue when he exclaiht
”Hol a hand near the pocket where I've put un
”This way, Watson,” I hear hily incorporeal the farther ahead he gets
”Slon, Hole, but he is a hound with the scent of the fox and has no intention of losing the hunt It is all I can do to keep hih the London streets and despite s foiled by the night's darkness
After a long and enervating sprint, Holmes takes a sharp turn and I lose him, just for a few moments I barrel around the end of a street corner and find it eht have lost his trail or ue had fallen foul to some urban predator The area is industrial, as is much of London beyond the teneoing through their circadian motions
”Shhh” I hear from behind me, and turn to see Holmes crouched down in the lee of a doorway More precisely, I realise, we are in a warehouse district and enclosed on either side by buildings devoted to public works In the sudden stillness, above the frenzied beating ofworks that services all of London's sewers and drains The stink of that dank place is strong here too and I wonder suddenly e have unwittingly walked into
Hol ”At the end of the alley,” he says
I follow his extended finger and see only darkness at first
My breathing is rapid, my heart rate elevated, and not from the impromptu burst of exercise